Good Man
by serenelystrange
Summary: Answered a prompt from londonspook over on the LJ comm, leverage fic. She wanted Sophie/Eliot friendship , with Sophie getting hurt and Eliot taking care of her. This is what I came up with. Hope y'all like. Please review!


A/N – So I answered a prompt from londonspook, over on the LJ community, leverage_fic. The prompt was:

(Characters: Elliot, Sophie (friendship)

Prompt: Sophie gets hurt and Elliot takes care of her.)

NOTE- Italics are Sophie's thoughts. Quotations are, aptly enough, dialogue. Also, ok, I am not British. Therefore, if Sophie isn't "British enough" I'm sorry. I tried. Hope I didn't do it awful.

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"Oh, bugger."

Sophie sighed with annoyed resignation as she took in her current situation. She was cold. She was wet. She was naked. And to top it off, she was pretty sure she had a broken ankle. Cursing the slippery shower she had fallen in, Sophie tried to lift herself to her feet, getting as far as the sink before the pain in her left ankle became too much and she collapsed to the edge of the bathtub, gingerly placing her injured ankle out in front of her. It was rapidly swelling and turning interesting shades of red and blue. _Now what?_

Deciding first thing was indeed first, Sophie gripped the sink and rose to stand on her good foot, keeping the weight off the injured ankle. Thanking whoever was listening that her towels hung so close to her sink, she grabbed a fluffy peach towel and wrapped herself up, very carefully. Then she grabbed her phone from the drawer in the sink and sat back down on the edge of the tub, debating. _Who to call?_

She debated just calling a taxi to take her to the hospital. _But how will I get down the hall, never mind the stairs?_

Nate was her next thought. _No. It's too…_ Her thoughts trailed off as she considered calling Nate. Sure, he could help, but the whole situation was just so embarrassing! And they were just beginning to come to some form of friendship, and everything was just so damned precarious, that she didn't dare calling him to help her while she was barely dressed and weak.

She thought of Parker next, and was nearly convinced that the thief was the right option. But the swelling and increasing pain in her ankle halted the thoughts. Parker was strong, but Sophie was curvier than the girl, and she really didn't know how much help she would need supporting herself on the trip to the hospital. Plus, she had seen Parker drive; it was not an experience she cared to willingly submit herself to again. _Speed limits don't even faze the girl. No, not Parker. Definitely not Parker. _

Hardison was dismissed just as quickly. She adored the hacker usually, and she knew he was stronger than he looked under his geeky appearance, but she also knew how he was. _He'd call Nate. Can't have that._

And that left only one option. Sophie dropped her head to her knees, wincing when the movement jostled her throbbing ankle. _Eliot. _

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The knock on her bathroom door surprised Sophie, though she had known Eliot was coming. _How'd he get in the house? _In her rushed phone call, she had forgotten to figure that aspect out. Eliot was on his way the second she told him she was hurt, and the relief that somebody was coming made her forget about the details. Shaking her thoughts, she called out for Eliot to come in.

Eliot walked in and took in the sight before him, and much to Sophie's annoyance, couldn't help but laugh a little.

"What's so funny? I'm hurt here!" _Asshole. _

"I'm sorry," Eliot replied, but a smile still played on his lips, "It's just… how'd you mange to slip in the shower? You're so damn.. graceful."

Sophie's anger melted despite herself. Honestly, only Eliot could mock and compliment a person at the same time. "New body wash," she explained, shrugging, "Didn't realize how slippery it was. Oily." She gestured blindly to the shower behind her, and the movement pushed her ankle just a bit, but it was enough to make her grimace from the pain, cutting off further words.

Eliot was by her feet at an instant, carefully lifting the now colorful ankle into his lap to examine it. He pressed his finger experimentally into the bruising, letting her kick him when she reacted automatically, instead of holding her foot still. Luckily, she only hit his thigh. Sophie hissed in pain and he shot her a sympathetic glance.

"I'm no doctor, but I've been through this, and yeah, pretty damn sure it's broken." He placed her foot back on the floor so carefully that she didn't even feel it. He looked up at her again, and Sophie was struck by how young he looked. Without all the anger in his face he looked years younger, and infinitely more adorable. Though she'd never admit it to him. _He'd probably smack me. Or Hardison. Just because. _

Instead she just smiled weakly at him, "Help me to my room?" Eliot nodded. After all, she couldn't very well go to the hospital in a towel. The sudden realization that Sophie might need help getting dressed struck him still for a moment, but he pushed the thought from his mind. He'd bring her clothes to her and then wait for her outside the room. Easy enough. Able to breathe again, Eliot chuckled as Sophie attempted to stand on her own again.

"It gets worse every time you try," he murmured, "trust me." Sophie just nodded, looking disgusted with herself and her helplessness. But she let him support her weight anyway, as they made their way to her bedroom.

The scent hit Eliot the instant Sophie opened the door. It was a mix of spicy incense and some sort of sweet flower, and it was all together and entirely Sophie. He tried to take in the details of the room, but there was a more important mission at hand. Clothing. He helped Sophie to the bed where she sat in relief on the soft surface. Turning to where her closet should be, he laughed again, but softly. Sophie _would_ have a genuine wardrobe, huge and shiny and old fashioned. Sparing her an amused glance, he pulled open the doors and took a step back. He literally had no idea where to start.

"Just grab me a dress," Sophie instructed, snapping him back to reality.

Eliot tilted his head at the abundance of dresses, "What color?"

Sophie perked up, "Ooh, there's a lovely pinewood sage one to the right, with pearl buttons at the collar!"

Eliot just stared as he asked again, "What color?"

"Green, please," Sophie sighed. _Men._

Nodding, Eliot grabbed the nearest green dress, pointedly ignoring Sophie's 'that's _clearly _jade,' and brought it to her.

Sophie looked up at him after taking the dress, worrying her lip.

"What is it?" he asked, beginning to get annoyed.

"I'm going to need undergarments," she told him, matter of factly. The shade of red he turned almost made the whole thing worth it, but not quite.

Eliot stuttered, "C-cant you just go without? Parker does it. All the time."

Sophie raised her eyebrows in amusement, "And how do you know that?"

"Everybody knows that! Parker don't like underwear. The sky is blue. Just facts of life."

"I see," Sophie responded, barely able to keep a straight face, "but no, I can't just go without. Not when I'll have to sit in that waiting room for god knows how long, with god knows who looking up my skirt."

Eliot's brow furrowed. He hadn't considered that. As he did, he realized how very much he would hate it. Nodding with newfound determination, he walked to her dresser and pulled open the underwear drawer, once again overwhelmed by all the colors and fabrics. He looked helplessly back at her, and scowled when she giggled.

"Just give me white," she instructed, as if talking to a small child.

Eliot pulled out the first white bra he saw and tossed it expertly on the bed beside Sophie. Looking back into the drawer, his fingers skimmed over a lacy white thong, which he chose to ignore, before he found a white pair of panties with respectable coverage. Especially for hospital perverts. He tossed the panties beside the bra and headed for the door. He rolled his eyes as he heard Sophie's giggles behind the closing door. He went to freezer, pleased and disturbed to find an icepack already there. Grabbing it, he walked back towards her room. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the wall outside, waiting.

A surprisingly short time later, Sophie called out for him to come back in. Eliot breathed a sigh of relief at the fully covered Sophie. He may not have feelings for her, but he was only human, and Sophie was undeniably beautiful. Sitting across from her, at the foot of the bed, he placed the icepack against her ankle, rubbing her leg soothingly as the shock of cold hit her. The shock quickly turned into numbing relief though, and Sophie smiled and leaned back against the headboard.

"Thank you. For the ice. And for coming to help me to begin with."

Eliot rolled his eyes, "Of course I came. Why wouldn't I help you?"

"You don't trust me. At least, not entirely."

He didn't lie to her, "True. But whatever happened before, whatever your issues are and my issues are, we're still teammates, and I take care of my team."

"I feel like I should be wearing padding and tossing around one of those horrid American footballs," Sophie laughed at the mental image.

"You know what I mean," Eliot resisted the urge to stick out his tongue at her.

Sophie nodded, "You don't entirely trust me, but we're still, for lack of a better word, friends?"

"For lack of a better word," Eliot repeated, musing, "Or at least for lack of a more complicated word."

"It's always complicated," Sophie grinned, "But I think it works, most of the time."

Eliot nodded, shifting the icepack to the other side of her ankle, "It does. Friends. It's…" he trailed off, stopping himself.

Sophie looked at him curiously, "It's what?"

Eliot fought the urge to duck his head as he answered, "It's, it's been a long time since I had actual friends. Especially ones who weren't trying to kill me every other week." He laughed, somewhat bitterly, and Sophie stopped herself from reaching out and petting his hair. _Should never touch the hair. _

Instead, she fought her own urge to drop her gaze as she responded. "I am sorry, you know. Thieves or not, I shouldn't have done what I did. Not to my team. My friends."

_My family. _Hardison's happy voice rang through her head, he often called them his family. And she knew, somewhere deep down, that they were her family now. And she knew Eliot knew it too. But the pair of them, so alike in some ways, would never voice their admissions. It was hard to lose friends, but it happened. Losing family meant losing a part of yourself that you couldn't get back, and neither of them was willing to put so much at stake. _Too late._ Sophie silenced her nagging thoughts and changed the subject.

"Hospital now?" she half questioned, half demanded. Eliot jumped up, with a grace even Sophie envied and was beside her in a flash. Before she could protest, he scooped her up like she was nothing more than a pillow and headed for the door.

"Eliot!" she protested, "You can't carry me all the way to the car, you'll hurt yourself."

"Seriously?" Eliot laughed, "You ain't heavy. And you got no shoes on. This seems the easiest way."

Sophie rolled her eyes but couldn't fault his logic. She shrugged and looped her arms around his neck. If she had to go to the doctor, she may as well get a ride.

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The actual hospital visit went by quickly, much to their surprise. Ms. Aurora Belle was now outfitted with a cast and a bottle of painkillers. Mr. Eric Sebastian never got a chance to use his identity, for which Eliot was relieved. He was already going to give Hardison hell for even creating the ridiculous ID's. Eliot got more than one appreciative glance from pretty nurses as he lifted Sophie from the hospital mandated wheelchair to the passenger seat, but he ignored them. After all, he might be a hitter, but he was still a gentleman. And gentleman didn't stare at pretty nurses with an injured friend in their arms.

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It was nearly seven by the time everything was said and done, and Eliot got Sophie back into her bed. Grabbing her a bottle of water, he watched her down a pain pill and get comfortable in the bed. For all the adrenalin fueled energy she seemed to have, he knew she would soon be asleep. Deciding to find them some dinner, he wandered towards the kitchen but Sophie stopped him with a question.

"How'd you get in here anyway? You don't have a key."

Eliot smirked, "You think Parker's the only one who can pick a lock?"

"Guess not," Sophie laughed, eyes lighting up.

He paused to consider his own question, "Why'd you call me? Why not Nate? Or Hardison? Or even Parker? Well, maybe not Parker. Have you seen her drive?"

Sophie laughed again, "I had lots of reasons. Good, sound reasons that make much more sense in my head than they would out loud. Basically, you were the best choice. I knew you'd help me without being weird about it like Nate, or antsy like Hardison, or, well, Parker. For all your bravado, you're probably the sanest of us all." _With the prettiest hair too. Right, don't talk about the hair._

Eliot wondered if the pain pills were making Sophie more candid than usual, but he decided not to question it too closely. He enjoyed getting a straight answer out of her for once. Smiling at her, he sat back down at the foot of the bed, running his fingers absently over her cast.

"I'm trying to imagine Hardison's reaction if he walked into you in just a towel, and all I can see is him choking on air. It's pretty awesome." Eliot laughed at his thoughts.

"If I was going to seduce you, Eliot, I sure wouldn't break my ankle to do it." Sophie snorted, yawning despite her energy.

"You could, you know," Eliot paused at Sophie's curious look, "Seduce me, I mean. I don't think I could say no to you."

Sophie smiled even as her eyes drifted shut for a moment, "No, I couldn't. You're too good. You wouldn't let me screw everything up. Even if I wanted to." _I wouldn't do it, wouldn't try._

"I'm not good, Sophie. Better maybe, but not good. Been a long time since good." Eliot smiled ruefully, knowing she was minutes from sleep and wouldn't remember this conversation in the morning. But she surprised him by snapping her eyes open and staring at him intently.

"You are good. A good man. No matter what." _Good man._

Eliot just nodded, unsure of what to say. Her words made his throat constrict, but it was a feeling he didn't mind.

"I want Chinese food." Sophie's random subject change made him laugh outright, bringing him back out of his thoughts.

"Ok, sweetie, you rest. I'll go get Chinese food." He tucked her in as she settled herself into the pillows.

Sophie was asleep before he reached the doorway. Smiling to himself, Eliot pulled out his phone, knowing he had to inform the team about the situation. Settling himself on Sophie's couch, he picked up the nearest Chinese food menu. It did sound good right about then, and he knew Sophie would be hungry when she woke up. Deciding to call the team after he ordered food, Eliot kicked off his shoes and rested his head back on the incredibly comfortable couch. Maybe it was the adrenalin wearing off, or the plush couch, or some combination of the two, but Eliot found himself suddenly sleepy, and try as he might, he knew he couldn't fight it off. Giving up, he put his phone back in his pocket and surrendered to sleep.

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Eliot awoke the next morning to a steady pressure at his feet. He looked up to see Parker sitting on the arm of the couch, batting his feet like a cat.

"What the hell?" he questioned, more curious than angry.

Parker stopped batting to respond, "Nate sent me to check on Sophie. She wasn't answering her phone. You weren't either. Didn't think I'd find you here though. I bet Hardison five bucks that you slept with her. Did you?" She was nearly bouncing with excitement.

"Hold on, hold on," Eliot hushed her, too much to process at once. "First of all, Sophie's been out cold because of painkillers. And my phone is apparently dead. And no, I did not sleep with Sophie. If I had, why would I be on the couch?"

Parker frowned, "You could suck in bed. I don't know."

"I do not.. oh, never mind," Eliot sighed. It was too early for Parker logic. "I just fell asleep on the couch. Sophie broke her ankle, I helped her for a while."

"Why?" Parker questioned, nudging Eliot into a sitting position so she could sit across from him on the couch.

"Because that's what friends do," Eliot answered, rubbing his hands over his blurry eyes. Far too early for Parker.

"Oh," she responded, nodding. "Good to know."

Eliot tried not to give her his 'there's something wrong with you' look, but failed. Still too damn early. Parker, to her credit, just ignored the look and went on rambling about the new job Nate had in the works, and how now she guessed Sophie's part would have to be changed, and Hardison was going to love his part in it, and how she got to repel! And Nate got to wear another funny hat. And Eliot was going to pose as…

"Wait a second!" Eliot stopped her as he caught onto something in the endless stream.

"What?" she questioned, sitting still so quickly it nearly gave Eliot whiplash.

"We can't just steal the Red Sox!" he exclaimed.

Parker laughed, "Of course we can, but don't worry, we'll give them back."

Eliot groaned, suddenly wishing Sophie was awake and needed help. Help that would call him away from this crazy conversation.

Parker just went on talking about the plan, even as Eliot stretched back out on the couch, resting his feet across her lap on the arm of the couch. She didn't even notice. He offered her one more eye roll before closing his eyes and falling back into sleep. It was still most definitely and assuredly, entirely too early for this.

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THE END


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